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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24472729">Puppy Surprise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverxenomorph/pseuds/silverxenomorph'>silverxenomorph</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Still Waters [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, Gen, Humanformers, Injury Recovery, Jazz does not appreciate work calls before 7am on her day off, Major Character Injury, Mentions of forced breeding/breeding mills, Mer AU, MerPup - Freeform, Merformers, Merpeople Transformers, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), Ratchet swears a lot, Scars, Swearing, Transformer Sparklings, but no graphic description of either process, discussions or Mer Biology and reproductive processes, healed injury, rated for the swearing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:20:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24472729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverxenomorph/pseuds/silverxenomorph</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Wildlife Rescue Centre is no stranger to having Merpups. The staff are usually on hand to help deliver these special bundles. But of course Prowl being the secretive Orca Mer had to go change all of that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jazz &amp; Prowl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Still Waters [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2290358</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>195</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 6am Phone calls are Illegal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My Merformers stuff and world building is directly influenced and inspired by Vienn_Peridot and Onigil. Without you guys I doubt I would be so far down the Merformers Trench as I am! Onwards into my first multi chapter foray into a Mer Au!</p><p>Note: Mer are one gender and are all capable of carrying and siring pups and are a little confused by the Human hang up on Gender. Prowl uses male pronouns for both himself and Blue. Though other Mer will choose what feels right to them.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jazz woke to the sound of her obnoxious ringtone. An arm snaked out of her blanket cocoon and snatched the offending phone from the night stand, withdrew into the blankets and slapped it to her ear without checking the caller ID.</p><p>“’llo?”</p><p>“Get here now!” Ratchet, her boss and Head Veterinarian of the WRC, spoke breathlessly on the other end.</p><p>“Oh hey, Ratch. Mornin’ to you too, I’m good thanks.” She snarked “What’da need me fer?”</p><p>“Jazz, I don’t have time for this. You need to come in.”</p><p>“It’s ma day off, Ratch.” Jazz peered at the clock on her bedside table “It’s damn early on ma day off, so how about no.”</p><p>Jazz could hear the older man all but growl in frustration on the other end.</p><p>“Get your backside to the centre now!”</p><p>“Ratch, it’s my day off an’ ya ain’t telling me why I’m needed so bad. I’m sure M’racer can handle it, whatever it is. I’m going back to b-”</p><p>“Prowl calved.”</p><p>Jazz shot upright, suddenly awake.</p><p>“Wha?”</p><p>“Prowl. Calved.” Ratchet’s gravely voice stressed each word.</p><p>“I’ll be there in 30.” Jazz launched herself from the bed, fighting the blankets, in a rush to get dressed.</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>- 20 minutes earlier –</p><p>Ratchet was always the first to get to the WRC, relishing the pre-dawn grey light and solitude before the day’s madness began. Madness usually perpetrated by a certain orange Lionfish Mer; whose name was illegal to mention this early in the morning.</p><p>He fished his laptop bag, lunch bag and drive through coffee out of the front of his rusting jeep and hip checked the door closed not bothering to lock it. The staff car park was key card gated, surveilled by CCTV and patrolled by the formidable and outwardly sour Cyclonus after hours. Keys jangled as he fumbled the unlocking of the door and he set about routine. Turn lights on. Unlock doors. Toss lunch in the staff fridge to be forgotten until dinner. Set up laptop in office. Drink coffee while watching the Mer on the tank cameras. Wave absently as the other morning shift staff rolled in to start their work. Read Emails. Yell at Rodimus. Do work. Forget lunch. Get yelled at by Rodimus for forgetting lunch. More coffee. And so on, until it was time to go home.</p><p>He got as far as setting up his laptop to watch the tank cameras. He’d barely reached for his coffee when he noticed that all the Mer seemed off, too active for this time in the morning. The cameras didn’t have sound, but they showed the residents loosely clustered towards one side of the centre. He pressed a few keys and changed the view to the Arctic Mer habitat end.</p><p>“Don’t tell me Tailgate’s caught <em>more</em> seagulls.” He toggled the cameras to check but the Dolphin Mer was unfeathered and wiggling excitedly at the <em>other</em> Arctic tank. The one that held Prowl. The extremely intractable and asocial Prowl whose unpredictable behaviour had forced them to keep him in a habitat by himself while Jazz, the only human he tolerated, worked to make him more sociable so they could begin his integration rehab.</p><p>“Oh hell. More kittens. Just what we need.”</p><p>Ratchet lifted his coffee and switched to the feed of the concrete platform and shallows area of Prowl’s tank. The Orca had a fondness for gathering stray cats over the last 10 months since he’d been brought in with severe facial and back injuries. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the cats had given birth to a litter in Prowl’s area. He seemed to encourage it. But Ratchet couldn’t see any cats or kittens which didn’t surprise him they often gave birth in the hollows of the false rocks around the walls. He’d have to go in and check. He looked at the water to see where the Mer was. Prowl largely ignored him when he did go into but Ratchet would be a fool to ignore the danger, Orca Mer were as dangerous if not more than the animals they resembled. The dark rippled blur of Prowl’s form made lazy circles in the water. It was accompanied by a much smaller, less black smudge of mermish shape and a far less certain movement. Ratchet out his cup down.</p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p>He shoved his chair away from his desk and raced out of his office towards Prowl’s habitat, a litany of profanity tumbling out under his breath. And run full on into Moonracer.</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“Dammit!”</p><p>“Ratchet, are you okay-”</p><p>“I need all the footage from Prowl’s tank from last night!” Ratchet cut the Mer handler off, seizing her by the shoulders to right himself.</p><p>“Sure, why?”</p><p>“Just get it!”</p><p>Ratchet brushed past as he dashed to the underwater observation area between the habitats. By the time he’d gotten to Prowl’s tank Ratchet was sweating the proverbial bullets both dreading and excited to confirm the camera footage. And confirm it he did. Prowl was gently guiding a small blue and red Orca Merpup around his tank.</p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p>He turned away from the sight and slammed a hand into his pocket for his phone. He tried to swipe but in his haste he kept flubbing his pass code. He held down the button for the digital assistant instead.</p><p>“Call Jazz!” he barked at the phone.</p><p>“Calling Jazz.” Intoned the phone. It rang four times before Jazz picked up. It felt like forever.</p><p>“’llo?”</p><p>“Get here now!”</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>Ratchet watched Prowl teaching his Pup learn to swim when Moonracer cautiously approached.</p><p>“Ratchet? I have last night footage.” She watched the Head Vet tilt his head in understanding but remain focused on the tank, arms crossed. Curiously she approached to look as well. “Holy shit! Is that a...?”</p><p>“A Pup? Yes.”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“I would assume the same way as all Merpups happen.” Ratchet replied dryly.</p><p>“I mean…Prowl’s been alone since he got here…”</p><p>“I know what you mean, ‘Racer.” He turned away from the tank smiling “Jazz is on her way in. I think questions can wait until then. Let’s go see when Prowl managed to spring this surprise on us. Footage is in my office?”</p><p>“Yeah, the drive’s on your desk.” Moonracer peeled her eyes away from the Mer and trotted after Ratchet.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>By the time Jazz raced into the office forty minutes later, Ratchet and Moonracer had watched enough of the recording on fast forward to pinpoint the time Prowl had calved. 3:02am. Tail first. He’d guided the pup to the surface, though as Mer had gills as well as lungs the need to get the infant to breathe wasn’t as urgent as other ocean dwellers.</p><p>“Prowl? Pup? Where?” Jazz asked breathlessly.</p><p>“You forgot Why, When and How.” Moonracer teased.</p><p>“Alright, Alright.” Ratchet said “Jazz sit down. You need to watch this before I let you go anywhere near Prowl today.” He started the playback again and turned the laptop to face Jazz. While the other woman watched, He turned back to the paperwork to record the Pup’s arrival. “’Racer why don’t you go and get some feed ready for Jazz to take in? I’m not sure if he’ll feel like eating right now but best be prepared. Oh, and give the other guys a heads up and tell them to say the hell away from Prowl until I give the go ahead. Tell the Pod too, though I they probably already know, given how they were acting this morning.”</p><p>“Sure boss!” Moonracer smiled.</p><p>Jazz watched. Even at double speed it was hard to believe. Not enough was known of the post birth process for Mer. While births had occurred at the WRC before, none of them had been by rescued wild Mer, only by captive bred or those rescued from illegal breeding mills that had decided to carry to term. Instinct only went so far. In a species as intelligent, as sentient as any human, some of the reproductive and birthing processes had to be taught or observed. And all their formally wild residents or wild Mer who interacted with the residents were reluctant to provide information. Though some were willing but unable to convey the information due to language barrier. Members of the wild local pod had alluded to the fact that pregnant pod members were jealously guarded and not much more. Growing poaching rates had increased every wild pods’ regarding their pregnant members.  In all their other births at the centre, there had been Staff on hand to observe and aid. But never had there been an unobserved natural birth. And of course, it had to be the secretive Prowl to change that.</p><p>And while the footage of Prowl wasn’t the clearest or even well lit, it was one of a very few accounts of Mer calving that existed. Biologists and Mer Ethologists the world over would be howling for a chance to look at the footage. Though the WRC Director would likely only allow WRC staff to study and publicise the footage first.</p><p>“Wow. Jus’ Wow. I mean I knew Prowler was being extra ornery yesterday but I never in a million years would have put it down to ‘im being in labour.” She carded fingers through her twists in awe. “Guess I’m gonna have to change that in my notes.”</p><p>“So, he never said anything to you?”</p><p>“Aw, come on Ratch’ what kinda question is that? You know Prowler only tolerates me.”</p><p>“He trusts you more than you think. Tailgate has said so more than once.”</p><p> “‘Gatie is a world class gossip an’ ya know not to trust a word from ‘im!” Jazz said.</p><p>“You’re a world class gossip too. It’s half the reason you get along with the resident pod so well.” Ratchet snarked, smiling wryly at the mock offence Jazz took. “Anyway, if I didn’t think Prowl trusted you, I wouldn’t be letting you anywhere near him and his pup today.”</p><p>“You sure?”</p><p>“I am. I’m sure as hell not going to let you in alone, but if he’s up to answering questions he’ll be more amenable to you than he would be to me.”</p><p>“An’ I’m more likely to get ‘im too agree to do the pup care stuff?”</p><p>“That too. Speaking of which I’ll be giving you homework-”</p><p>“Aww Ratch!”</p><p>“No buts! You need a Pup Care and Handling refresher. Because as of now you’re also the handler for the pup as well as Prowl.” Ratchet’s calloused hands searched a pile of books for the Pup Care manual that he himself had written while raising Rodimus. “Here - this’ll be a start. Most of it deals with Tropical Mer but I’ll give Anode a call later and see if she’s willing to come do some training with you.”</p><p>“Ain’t Anode working for that fancy place on the other side o’ the country?”</p><p>“It’ll be by skype, Jazz. Well, unless the Director can tempt her to come work for us.”</p><p>“An’ a new, rare merpup from a wild rare Mer wouldn’ be a part of the draw now would it?” Jazz asked, sly grin on her face.</p><p>“Oh shush. Here’s the stuff you need to ask Prowl.”</p><p>Ratchet waved a clipboard in front of Jazz’ face. She took it and gave it a quick peruse, it wasn’t a long list. In fact, it was mostly like a birth certificate form.</p><p>“Hey Ratch?”</p><p>“Yes Jazz?”</p><p>“Why don’ we do preg tests on all the Mer we get in? I know we do it when we rescue ‘em from the mills?”</p><p>“Breeding Mills have a singular goal. We assume every Mer we get from one is going to be pregnant. Even outside the natural cycle. The Rescue Foundation Fund gives us the money to test and deal with it.”</p><p>“Yeah, I get that, so why not test the wild rescues as well?”</p><p>Ratchet levelled a tired stare at Jazz.</p><p>“Budget cuts.”</p><p>“Seriously? We got all this money for care, rehab and release but not for that?”</p><p>“Yes and no. Yes, we do all the lab work here so we could test for it, but the chances of us getting an injured, pregnant, wild Mer are so low, that Prowl is our first.” He sighed and checked his watch “You can ask Prowl why he didn’t tell us. Which you should be going to do now. He’s had a very long night and he’s going to be hungry and have an equally hungry pup.”</p><p>“Alrigh’. Might swing by the kitchen and snag somethin’ extra tasty.” She said as she stood up “Might bribe ‘im to show me the puppy.”</p><p>“Don’t count on it. And you spoil Prowl too much!”</p><p>“He’s just had a baby, Ratchet! If that’s not worth spoilin’ him over I don’t know what is!”</p><p>“Get out of my office, Jazz!” A wad of crumpled paper was half-heartedly tossed in her direction as Jazz all but skipped out of the room.</p><p>“I’ll get ya when I’m ready ta go in!”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Little Mer Chatterbox</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prowl's POV time!</p><p>Prowl speaks the kind of fluent English that gets taught as a foreign language, He gets and uses the contracted words, but not the slang. Jazz' speech patterns were particularly hard for him in the beginning. He slips back into Mer when he's exhausted.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Prowl rumbled softly as his pup chittered and clicked excitedly, finally having mastered how to swim beside his Carri. He slowed his pace and felt little hands pap their way up his back over his collapsed dorsal fin and his upper back. He rolled and gently captured his vocal offspring to nuzzle him affectionately. Since his birth some hours prior the small blue and red pup had been making some form of noise mostly pup babble but he was already starting to imitate a few of Prowl’s calls. And while he couldn’t speak in full clear words yet Prowl suspected that the chittering would continue. It seemed his pup was destined to be as vocal as his sire had once been.</p><p>The returned nuzzle from the pup also contained a yawn. Prowl considered returning to his sleeping nest in the shallower area of his artificial rock home. He could use the rest as much as his pup did and he’d stashed some of last night’s meal away for the pup. He’d deliberately chosen to deliver in the deeper area of his home because it felt safer and was larger allowing him swim properly through contractions. Though it had the unwanted side effect of his neighbour, Tailgate, a heavily injured dolphin Mer from the Far Southern Island pods, realising that he was in labour. The much smaller Mer had ‘patrolled’ the thick invisible barrier between his much shallower pool and Prowl’s tank constantly singing to him throughout.  It was a foreign song to him, so different to his own pod’s birthing song, but it felt appropriate to the rag tag multi-species nature of his new pod.  The singing had only stopped so he could get the pup familiar with his own voice. Since then a different welcoming song had come each different member of the pod that had one. Rodimus had sung in one of the Humans’ languages, if one could call that singing. Returning to the shallows would bring the pup closer to the Human than he was prepare to be. He’d seen Doc Ratch and one of the other humans watching him earlier and talk into his phone, so he knew that they knew about his pup. And while he somewhat trusted Doc Ratch and Jazz, the pervasive fear that he’d lose his pup dug deep. He’d never be able to fend them off in his exhausted and aching state.</p><p> </p><p>A ‘Pock-Pock-Pock’ noise came from the shallow area.  That was the usual signal to let him know Jazz was there, not the one to let him know food was available, but she hadn’t used that in months. But if Prowl remembered correctly, today was supposed to be Jazz’ resting day, where one of the others was to come and give him food. The pup squeaked and burrowed into his neck scared by the noise and he sung softly in reassurance, stroking his back. Gently pressing the small body to his chest Prowl tiredly made his way to the far end of the shallow area to rest on the ledge and lift his head above the water, carefully making sure his pup was fairly hidden.</p><p>“Heya Prowlie.” Jazz greeted him while holding the false fin-on-a-stick used to make the noise. She also stood a respectful distance from the edge of the water like she used to when they first met. Even further back was Doc Ratch. Prowl’s depth perception wasn’t as good as it used to be having been blinded in his left eye. But even he could tell they were being cautious. Good.</p><p>“Jazz? No rest?” Prowl asked.</p><p>“Now how am I supposed ta stay at home with the little surprise Ratch saw you with?” She put the stick down “I had to come and check up on ya.”</p><p>“Want pup?” Tiredness had stolen the usual semi-fluentness and complete sentences from Prowl’s mind. Prowl’s pup stirred lightly at the talking. He stroked his back lightly and felt him snuggle back into his chest.</p><p>“Maybe later, Prowlie. When you’re ready to show ‘im off. You worried that we’d take ‘im from you?”</p><p>“Stories. Saw hunters take pups from Carris. Almost was one.”</p><p>“Ah. Naw Prowlie, we won’t touch your puppy until you’re ready to let us.” Jazz replied, sitting down. “Doc Ratch will want a health check at some point, for both of you, but there’ ain’t no rush.”</p><p>Prowl rumbled tiredly.  A Health check meant getting blood drawn. He wanted to rest but he wouldn’t until the two humans left.</p><p>“Anyway, you feel up to some food?”</p><p>“Not hungry.” Not yet anyway, not until after he’d had some sleep.</p><p>“Ya got a name for your Pup?”</p><p>“No name yet. Tired.”</p><p>“I bet ya are. I was hopin’ you might be up for a talk, but I can see I’d better leave it ‘til tomorrow.”</p><p>“Talk later.” Prowl had slipped into monosyllabic English. “Sleep now.”</p><p>“A’ight Prowlie. Have a good nap. Just let ‘Gate know when you’re done and we’ll bring some nice fresh fish fer ya. Maybe even extra nice? Sound good?”</p><p>Prowl let out a soft affirmative whistle in Mer. It was less effort than to speak or think in Human.</p><p>Jazz carefully got to her feet, picked up the false fin-on-a-stick, and slowly backed away. Prowl watched her go until she got to where Doc Ratch was and then slipped back under the water to swim to his nest to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>The next day Jazz returned bright and early. Prowl watched from his new favourite spot – the ledge of the shallow area – close enough that they could see and talk, but far enough away that he could keep his pup out of the way. It also had the added benefit of allowing the vocal pup to explore their nesting area while gaining confidence in navigating his environment. He clicked at the pup to return to him, for now curiosity had its limits and as curious as his offspring was about the land bound newcomer, he wasn’t ready to let him so close. At least he had a name to give now. He’d been allowed use of a water proof dictionary when he’d been learning to read and speak English. In Mer the pup was called “One who speaks endlessly”. Though because Humans could barely say things in Mer properly, he’d also chosen the closest English equivalent he could find - the phrase “To talk a blue streak”. He’d shortened it to just ‘Bluestreak’. He wasn’t sure what Jazz’ propensity to nicknames would make of it.</p><p>Bluestreak giggled as he bumped into his Carri, little arms clinging to a flipper in a hug. Prowl gently booped his nose and blew a raspberry at him. Which caused more giggling and chittering as Bluestreak flitted over his back to snuggle under his dorsal fin. The curve of its fall proved a good hand hold and hiding spot for a pup. He reached back and gently held Bluestreak still indicating that he should stay there for now, it was something he’d managed to teach the pup with varying levels of success. He had to do it twice more before Bluestreak settled. Only then did Prowl peek above the water.</p><p>Jazz stood where she’d been yesterday, wearing the false skin that made her look like him, with a silver bucket that he could see the salmon tails stick up from in her left hand; a clipboard in her right and a bag slung across her chest that he knew to be a blood drawing kit. She smiled at him and put the bucket down.</p><p>“Mornin’ Prowler! Feeling better today?”</p><p>“Still sore. Having pups hurts more than expected.”</p><p>“Same for us too. Ma’ Mum always said she was sore for weeks after she had me ‘n’ ma’ brother.”</p><p>“Your Carri hurt for so long each time? After only one pup?”</p><p>“Naw Prowlie, she had us both in one go, Me first and the ma’ Bro.” Jazz laughed “We’re Twins.”</p><p>“Twins? Two at once is so rare!” Prowl lurched higher out of the water in surprise, Bluestreak rumbling his displeasure at the sudden movement. Tiny little claws pin pricked his thick skin.</p><p>“Not so much fer humans. It happens all the time for us.” She shrugged “Anyway, I have some fresh sockeye and squid for breakfast and some less fun but important stuff ta’ do as well. Wanna eat firs’ or talk?”</p><p>“Food first. Doc Ratch want tests?”</p><p>“Yeah, He does. He’s worried about ya, and kinda mad at himself for missing that you were having a pup.”</p><p>“He wants tests for pup too?”</p><p>“Yeah, but I managed to hold him off on those today. In a few days maybe? I don’ wanna rush you.” She hefted the bucket “Puppy with you?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Okay, well I’ll leave the bucket jus’ in the water an’ back off. Ya can grab whatever ya want an’ go eat. I’ll be over there when you’re done.” Jazz used the clipboard to point at the bench just inside the door. One end was covered in equipment. Carefully Jazz stepped ankle deep into the water and put the bucket down. Then she retreated back to the bench. “All yours Prowler!”</p><p>Prowl gently dislodged Bluestreak from under his dorsal to go get the bucket. He still hadn’t gotten used to the dead food they had here and made a note to see if he could get some live fish in order to teach him how to hunt properly. Inside he saw someone had thoughtfully supplied small whole squid and salmon cut into pup sized chunks along with his own full-sized portions. Even dead squid could be pulled through the water to imitate a living one. A good place to start, Prowl thought, dragging the bucket under water.</p><p>                                                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Having successfully fed and tired out his offspring by having him chase the squid, Prowl tucked him into their nest while he ate his portion. He stroked down the pup soft skin of his back to lull Blue into a deep sleep so he could go get his health check done. Blood draws were uncomfortable and with how close his offspring liked to be he didn’t want to risk hurting him or getting him too close just yet. His pup blew a few bubbles in response but remained asleep. Satisfied that Bluestreak was asleep, Prowl made for the shore, bringing the bucket with him. Jazz jumped up off the seat and walked forward to meet him as he pulled himself almost clear of the water.</p><p>“All done?”</p><p>“Yes.” Prowl replied, dragging the bucket onto the painted concrete, still full of salt water.</p><p>“Puppy happy?”</p><p>“Bluestreak is asleep. He likes playing with the squid.”</p><p>“You named him Bluestreak? It don’ sound like a Mer name.”</p><p>“It’s not, it’s English. In Mer it’s:” Prowl let out a string of Mer “It means ‘One who speaks endlessly’.”</p><p>“Ain’t that kinda rude?” Jazz looked surprised.</p><p>“It’s more of a description. He makes as much noise as his sire.”</p><p>“Baby Blue’s a chatterbox, hey? Sounds like He’ll get on well with some o’ the others! Sounds like his da’ would have too.” She picked up the bucket and tipped it out. “Wha’ was his da’ like?”</p><p>“Noisy. But a competent hunter. I’d rather not talk about her.”</p><p>Truth be told Blue’s sire had been killed by the very same Poachers who’d caused his injuries. They hadn’t been romantically involved, their mating a result of a mutual need to end their heat cycles. But when She’d found out she was to be a parent; she’d made every effort to protect and spoil him as the sires in his Pod liked to do. Her last act had been to push him off the poacher’s ship before they hurt him any further or discovered his pregnancy. He’d landed on his dorsal breaking the cartilage and managed to fend off sharks before being spotted by a human on a small fishing vessel who had reported his location to WRC rescuers. She was a good sire and though they hadn’t been that close, he still grieved for her. It must have shown in his body language because sensing some heavy “do not go there” vibes, Jazz politely dropped the subject with a soft nod.</p><p>“Alrigh’ different subject time. I suppose now’s a good a time as any to do tha’ check-up?”</p><p>“Same as the ones from before?”</p><p>“Well, not quite but close enough. Let’s start with the blood and then I’ll ask ya’ some stuff while givin’ you a physical check to make sure ya’ ain’t sore in places you’re not supposed ta’ be.” She unzipped the kit “Arm or fluke?”</p><p>“Fluke.” Prowl twisted and rolled onto his side to expose the underside of his tail.</p><p>“Okay!”</p><p>He’d suffered through worse than Jazz’s blood draws, but it still stung.</p><p>“Done! Ready fer the rest?”</p><p>Prowl rumbled his assent.</p><p>“If ya’ can roll over jus’ a bit more? Yeah like that. Lemme know if anything hurts.” Jazz gently palpitated along Prowl’s side. “Alrigh’ Ratchet wanted me ta’ ask you how far along ya’ were when we got ya in.”</p><p>“About 5 full moons, maybe a little longer.”</p><p>“An’ why did you never say anything? Jazz asked mentally noting that he’d calved at just on or over 15 months, early but still considered full term.</p><p>Prowl clicked for a second.</p><p>“I thought I’d lost him after the poachers” He replied after a minute “By the time I realised I hadn’t I was afraid that telling anyone would lead to repercussions. And in the light of my injuries I felt that having Bluestreak here was far safer for a lone Mer.”</p><p>“I guess that’s fair. It did annoy Ratchet a lot.”</p><p>“Should I apologise?”</p><p>“Nah, He’ll get over it.” She straightened up “Looks like you’ll be fine, Prowler. Can’t see or feel any damage. But I still wan’ ya to let me know if anythin’ changes.”</p><p>Prowl rolled back onto his belly with an audible relief.</p><p>“There is one thing I’d like ta ask…” Jazz said “Ratch’ has me set up with a Pup specialist to teach me some stuff an’ well, she said the easiest way fer to do a check on Baby Blue if ya not ready to let us ‘andle ‘im is if we get some pictures.”</p><p>“Pictures?”</p><p>“Yeah of ‘is markings an’ stuff. It’ll ‘elp us do measurements and make a guess of weight for the paperwork. It'd mean we wouldn' hafta go scaring Blue with the health check so soon. O’ course if ya don’ wan’ us to take the photos, I can always show ya how to use the camera.”</p><p>“Show me. I’ll get them after he wakes up.”</p><p>“Sure thing, Prowlie!” Jazz said, heading back to the bench to grab the water proof digital camera.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oops.. I keep adding to the human formers cast. Ricochet is Jazz' fraternal twin brother. And some Mer pod lore drops!<br/>Jazz zip-tied an old flipper to a broom handle to slap the water. There are other ways to call Mer but Prowl hated them. <br/>Also I had to add another chapter because Prowl is being a butt and not letting Blue and Jazz meet like I want them too. </p><p>Chapter title is reference to the "Mr. Men and Little Miss" book series - specifically "Little Miss Chatterbox" which was the first book I bought my Niece, who like the title and Bluestreak is quite the chatterbox!</p><p>Apologies for murdering English with Jazz' accent. Let me know if you spot any errors!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Meeting the Puppy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi Long time no write! Life has not been kind to me these last few months. I intended to have this finished and up a long time ago. But about an hour after posting Chapter 2 my Garma passed away. I spent all of June and July down south for her funeral and packing up her estate. And then a week after I got home I had to get my 41 year old pet Galah, Honey, put to sleep as she injured herself while I was away, waited till I got home to show it (Dad was home a 5 days after the funeral) and intensive veterinary care wasn't helping. So yeah not exactly conducive to writing.</p><p>Anyway. A few Notes:<br/>- Tailgate uses both male and female pronouns because gender is confusing.<br/>- Mer Pups learn to speak far quicker than human babies do. <br/>- While not named, the Indigenous groups alluded to in this chapter are based on the Lummi Nation (Washington state coast) and the Inupiat of Northern Alaska. I was not able to fully research either peoples cultural practices, so anything depicted here is not likely to be accurate. What I have written is meant to depict a fictional version of these peoples that could exist and inhabit a world where Mer exist (and a world where the environment could support that many apex predators) and not meant to cause offence.<br/>- Ratchet totally sits in chairs like Commander William T. Riker.<br/>- Not beta'd. I hope Jazz' speech isn't too hard to follow.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tailgate had been the one to get the picture of Prowl and Bluestreak for the WRC’s official media releases a week after he’d been born. Ratchet had been checking on the smaller Mer’s prosthetics when she’d asked to borrow his phone and then returned with the candid shot of the two Orca Mer playing.  Prowl’s photos from earlier that week had been directed as technical photographs and the social media officer had wanted something more candid with the two of them in it. And since then it had been bedlam. There were always the ever-present nay-saying ‘animal rights’ activist groups, who accused them of wrong doing but in general the response to Bluestreak’s birth was a positive one. Though the WRC staff was getting tired of explaining that the Mer parents named their offspring and that no, there would not be a naming contest for a non-orphaned pup. Even adult rescues had their names adapted from Mer to the closest literary or phonetic English equivalent with approval from the Mer itself. There were exceptions, like Tailgate whose name was a reference to the scar on her tail fluke, who preferred the new nickname over her old one.</p><p>The most overwhelming response was from several northern indigenous nations. Prowl had been quite popular with those nations whose members followed the WRC, especially to those who cherished Orca and Orca Mer. Elders of the community had contacted them about sending a gift to celebrate and welcome the new pup. Which was why Jazz was now elbows deep in a large Styrofoam postal container from one of the Nations containing several wild caught Chinook salmon. Which Jazz knew was a very important gift given the declining population in the waters where they had been fished from. Also, as an important gift was the vacuum sealed seal meat from an Arctic Indigenous family – a gift from the boy who had hunted it who had sent the best portions of its meat because he was an avid fan of Prowl’s. Meat that the young man could have eaten the meat or used in trade for himself or his family to survive the harsh winters. The postal costs alone from the remote community could have fed people for a month. On top was a letter from the community elders and leaders and a small handful of shoreline and sea animals native to their region carved in wood. They were painted and coated in some sort of varnish to prevent the wood from rotting too quickly in the water the letter stated that they were teaching aids for Prowl to use to teach Bluestreak some of the edible creatures he could hunt once he was old enough.</p><p>Less serious gifts came from others as well in the form of toys. A lot of which were unsuitable because they weren’t water proof, though the giant squishy seal plush was utterly adorable and now occupied on of the guest chairs in Jazz’ office. She had no idea what to do isopod plush. There were also a good number of plastic toys intended for human babies. They too ended up being mostly unsuitable but only because no one was sure how to jangle plastic keys in water without Prowl removing an arm. Ratchet approved the bath toys for use as he’d used similar ones with Rodimus. Jazz would be glad for the many doubles of the toys having read how quickly Roddy had destroyed his toys as a pup. The hardest part was stopping Rodimus from going through the gifts.</p><p>“‘Ands off Roddy! These are fer Blue an’ Prowlie! Don’ make me get Ratch’ Or a Broom!” she’d yelled chasing the giant orange menace away from the tub of bath toys before she could get them away from the main hall. How did that pest keep managing to get in here? He was like a less mobile fishy version of the Jurassic Park velociraptors. More venomous too thanks to his spines.</p><p>“Oh no not the Broom!” Rodimus quailed in mock fear hands hover cupping his face. “Whatever shall I do?”</p><p>“I’m warnin’ yeh, don touch ‘em!”</p><p>“I’m just looking.” An orange hand snaked toward the rubber ducky wearing a sailor’s hat.</p><p>“Yeh and the las’ time you ‘just looked’ at somethin’ you got stuck in a picnic chair.” Jazz said sardonically. Rodimus levelled a glare at him.</p><p>“No chairs to get stuck in here”</p><p>He snagged the ducky and squeezed it. Its quack was high pitched like a dog’s squeaker toy. He smiled evilly, lifted the ducky higher and pointed it at Jazz. And then began squeaking it rapidly.</p><p>“Tha’s it! I’m getting The Hat!” Rodimus hated the Hat. He hated all hats but The Hat, a plastic bucket cut into a roman helmet shape after someone had stored cut durian in it, he hated most of all. The ducky squeaked in defiance even as Jazz retrieved The Hat from its hook.  “Last warnin’, Roddy!”</p><p>“Argh! No not the The Hat!” Rodimus dropped the duckie. “Fine, Mags is gonna be here soon anyway. It’s more fun bothering him.” He said, referring to Ultra Magnus, the Head Mer of the local wild pod.</p><p>Jazz watched the Lionfish Mer belly hopped back into the water before retrieving the rubber ducky, putting it back in the tub and hefting the hub onto her hip to take it into Prowl’s habitat.</p><p>                                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>Prowl was languidly petting one of his many stray cats when Jazz came through the door awkwardly manoeuvring the tub of toys through the frame. Most of their work together was being done while Bluestreak napped in his nest so they could get things done without interference. The noise of her entry caused all but the boldest of the strays to flee to various hidey holes.</p><p>“Presents; Prowlie!” Jazz chirped “Lotsa presents!”</p><p>Prowl looked at her quizzically as she set the tub down with a grunt of relief.</p><p>“From whom?” he asked.</p><p>“From ya fans! Most of ‘em are for Blue, though. Figured that we’d spend today running toys past ya.”</p><p>Jazz sat cross legged on the floor in from of the Mer and pulled the tub closer.</p><p>“I have that many fans?” he eyed the tub. “Why would they do this?”</p><p>“Mer don’t give gifts to a new parent?”</p><p>“Not in this manner. What gifts we do give aren’t so materialistic. Food certainly, since new parents are too exhausted to hunt, but things such as these? No. The greatest gift a new pup can have is songs and stories.” Prowl flicked through a plush bath book. “Gifts like these are given at important milestones like reaching age of majority or the first successful hunt. And usually more practical.” he flicked the rubber ducky for emphasis.</p><p>“We got some food sent too. It’s getting checked ta make sure there’s nothin’ nasty in it. Some of the northern nations sent it, not sure if your Pod ever went near their lands, but apparently, they think highly of Orca an’ I guess tha’ extends to you an’ baby Blue.” Jazz made a pile for the rejected toys. “The salmon should be okay, Chinook isn’t somethin’ we usually get here, but it was caught the same way as our supplier gets it. I think Ratch’s more worried about ta seal meat. The letter that came with it didn’t say what kind of seal it was.”</p><p>“Seal? Oh! I do miss seal. It’s probably a spotted or ringed seal those are common enough.”</p><p>“The people who sent it also sent these.” Jazz held out the carved animals. Prowl smiled broadly.</p><p>“These are beautiful!” He turned them over in his hand.</p><p>“An’ practical too, I got tha letter here, says they so you can teach Blue what animals are edible an’ what they look like.”</p><p>“May I read it?”</p><p>“Sure!” Jazz handed him the letter and watched as he carefully leafed through it with clawed hands.</p><p>“Was there a return address?” he asked after a while.</p><p>“Sure, you not thinking about returning them are ya?”</p><p>“No but a gift like these warrants a reply and a gift in kind, does it not?”</p><p>“Not sure wha’ their custom is up there but yeah, a ‘thank you’ is usually appreciated.” Jazz said, shrugging in the ‘I Guess’ way of someone not sure. “Ya want me to write it down?”</p><p>“I would like to write a reply myself.”</p><p>“Okay, on paper or on the tablet?”</p><p>“The tablet would be a better choice. Water and paper do not mix well.”</p><p>“I’ll go get it for ya.” Jazz sprung up, left Prowl to poke through the remaining toys and got the training tablet in its water proof case. She brought the stylus as well in case Prowl wanted to use it. “Here ya go”</p><p>“Thank you.” Prowl said, shifting his bulk to a more comfortable position to write on the ground. Jazz propped the tablet up on a folding stand and then sat down on the other side of the tub to put away the rejected toys.</p><p> </p><p>                                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Bluestreak woke from his nap early. Carri wasn’t there like he normally was. The nest was empty without him in it. Curling on himself to stem the tide of panic, Blue hugged his tail and thought. Carri was always away when he napped but always came back. Curiosity overcame fear. Where did Carri go?</p><p>Steeling himself as only a pup could, Bluestreak swam out of the nest to intrepidly go in search.  He started looking in the deep areas of the water keep his hand out to feel for that super hard and ouch-y water that he kept running into while he played. But he got tired and a little bored at looking at the rocks that Carri liked to rest on. He found the hard water and used it to lean against as he made his way back to the nest. He pouted. Carri wasn’t in the deep water as far as he could tell and he wasn’t at the nest. Maybe Carri was at the shallow dry place that he wasn’t allowed to be at. He swam to the ledge of the shallow dry to the side by some wet dry rocks. He hoped that Carri wouldn’t spot him from here when he looked.</p><p>He surfaced and pulled himself up a little higher by grabbing onto a rock to look. Carri was here! Bluestreak grinned, pleased at his success at finding his carri and his success at not being seen. Carri had his back to his hiding place and was doing something on the solid grey sand. To Carri’s left was one of those funny soft crested land Mer. No, Carri called them Huoomon, Blue mentally corrected himself. Was that the Yazz Carri talked about? They were talking to each other in the Huoomon words Carri had started teaching him. He liked Yazz’ fake skin, it looked like Carri’s skin in colour, though maybe a little lighter. What really fascinated him was Yazz’ soft crest. It was all twisty like finely tangled black seaweed and piled on their head neatly. Blue wondered what it felt like. Would it feel like the seaweed it looked like or was it squishy and smooth like his skin? A soft trilling noise alerted him to the nearness of one of Carri’s purr-purrs – a pretty tricolour one with yellow eyes – who extended its nose to sniff at him in greeting. He quietly chirped back at the Purr-Purr and gently patted it in the way Carri had shown him, after bracing himself against the rock. Maybe Yazz’ crest felt like a Purr-Purr? He really had to find out. Giving the Purr-purr a final pat he slipped back into the water. Going up onto the shallow dry was not allowed, but if Carri didn’t see, would Yazz mind if he got close enough to touch? He gnawed at a lip and then made his choice.</p><p>Had Jazz or Prowl been paying attention to the edge of the pool, they would have seen little blue hands sneaking along the rock and ledges getting ever so closer.</p><p>However, Bluestreak was grateful that they were too busy doing other things to really notice that he’d managed to get clear of the water’s edge and get most of the way to where Yazz was sitting. From here Bluestreak could see those weird ‘leg’ things that Huoomons used to get around on. He’d seen the one with the red and white crest watching Carri and Him at the far hard water barrier moving around on them. It looked like a very weird way of getting around but they seemed to have no issues. Yazz’ were folded in front of them. As he got closer, he could see the ‘leg’ things formed a shallow bowl shape like his napping nest. It looked comfortable. He wanted to lie there to see if it was as comfortable as it looked. Determined, he continued onto his desired goal.</p><p>                                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Jazz just about leapt out of her skin as sharp little pin pricks of pain bloomed on her right thigh. Looking down she saw little blue clawed hands gripping her leg through the wetsuit. The hands were attached to Prowl’s curious and definitely not supposed to be up here pup. Big blue eyes watched her and when she hesitated, Bluestreak took her silence as permission and proceeded to pull his way into her lap. Bluestreak might have only been the size of a rather long human six-month-old but he was heavy. And his claws were sharp. She grimaced at the sharp pin pricks digging in to her legs and let out a silent wheeze as Bluestreak settled his puppy weight onto her. She felt panic rise as Blue settled about papping his hands on her wetsuit and settling into a more comfortable position. While Bluestreak had instigated their contact, she had no idea how Prowl would react, though it was guaranteed to be a bad one if she didn’t say anything.</p><p>“Uhhh... Prowler?” she said.</p><p>“Yes, Jazz?” he replied, not looking away from his letter.</p><p>“Please don’ get mad... but we got a visitor...”</p><p>“Why would I get mad?” He looked up at the door but saw no one. “I don’t see anyone.”</p><p>“Yea, visitor’s – Oww - not over there. He’s over here...” She winced as the pup shifted again.</p><p>Prowl twisted around to see Bluestreak, balancing on his tail; belly to Jazz’s chest, attempting to reach for her hair. Jazz meanwhile was trying to lean back out range of tiny fingers her arms held up and out to the sides to make clear that she wasn’t touching the curious pup.</p><p>{Bluestreak!} Prowl Mer cry startled both Pup and Human. The infrasonic component didn’t carry as well without water so they felt it more than heard it. Bluestreak twisted to look at his Carri and warbled back contritely. {What are you doing? You know you’re not allowed up here!}</p><p>{You not there when I wake up, Carri! Wanted to find you! Wanted to see Yazz!} Bluestreak explained trying to look brave against Prowl’s questioning.</p><p>“Prowlie...?”</p><p>Prowl looked up from his defiant offspring to the clearly scared Jazz.</p><p>“I will not hurt you Jazz. Nor am I angry at you.” Prowl forced himself to relax his posture to something less aggressive. {You could have called. I was not ready for you to meet Jazz yet.} He frowned at the pup.</p><p>“Just disappointed?” Jazz teased, the words slipping out before she’d thought, arms slowly lowering.</p><p>“Only with my errant offspring.” He sighed. {Come here.}</p><p>{No!} Blue hissed back {I like here. Yazz is warm. Soft!}</p><p>{Come. Here, Now.}</p><p>{NO!}</p><p>“Yeah, okay I don’ need to understand Mer to get mos’ o’ that. Ain’t no point in tryna force Blue to do somethin’ he don’ wanna.” Tiny claws pricked through her suit again. “Also, I kinda wanna keep ma skin and wetsuit intact. Bitty Blue has sharp claws.”</p><p>{Jazz said you can stay if you stop clawing her. Humans do not have thick hides and your claws are hurting her.} Prowl sighed his assent. Bluestreak squeaked happily at first but rumbled in apology as he pulled his claws out of Jazz’ suit.</p><p>“Thanks, Baby Blue.” Jazz directed a soft smile at the damp bundle of pup on her lap. He sat up again and leant his weight against her chest trilling.</p><p>“He’s curious about your hair and asked to touch it.” Prowl relayed.</p><p>“So long as he don’ pull it.” She said. She was more willing to allow a curious pup who actually asked first before touching her hair. “Don’ need Ratch writin’ me up for having it loose. Or more pain.”</p><p>{You may touch, be gentle, like I showed you with the Purr-Purrs. Don’t pull.} Prowl instructed as Jazz lowered her head into range, where the pup took no time and great joy in sinking his fingers into the neatly coiled mass.</p><p>The pup babbled the whole time playing with Jazz’ hair describing its texture from his limited experience.  Prowl let him play until the now mussed bun threatened to come loose. In order to prevent further whining from the now energetic and over stimulated pup, Prowl directed Bluestreak towards the pile of toys. Once in arm’s reach Prowl snagged his wayward offspring for a once over check. After a quick groom Bluestreak managed to wiggle free, pounce on a toy that caught his eye and then retreated to the safe warmth of Jazz’s lap. Satisfied that nothing was going to happen, Prowl resettled himself to write the rest of his letter where he could still keep an eye on both Jazz and his pup. Jazz retied her hair and happily set about playing with Bluestreak while making mental notes to add to Blue’s file.</p><p> </p><p>                                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>From then on Bluestreak would join Prowl for his sessions with Jazz, except when he was still asleep, which happened fairly often as he was still growing. He’d been introduced to the weighing equipment, the clipboard, pens and just about everything Jazz brought in with her on a daily basis. Nothing seemed safe from Bluestreak’s curiosity or running commentary. Much like a human infant a lot of things found their way into Blue’s mouth – Jazz despaired at the bite mark in her brand-new flippers – which was about the only time his talking stopped. He’d picked up on some English but still relied on Prowl to translate and fill out his vocabulary. The first time Ratchet had stopped by to check on Prowl he had been greeted by the same Lap hogging interrogation Jazz had received. Bluestreak had declared him to be “Nice but scary sounding” after being fished out of Ratchet’s scratchy woollen jumper, the Doctor grousing all the while about being too old to be dead lifting miniature wiggly Mer. Both Jazz and Prowl knew he was putting up a front.</p><p>Bluestreak’s favourite place in the whole WRC was Jazz’ lap. It didn’t matter if he was curled up in it, lying across it or even just had his flukes on it, if it was Jazz’s lap, he loved it. Today he was pressed up against her chest as well cuddling and half heartedly returning the petting Jazz was giving him.</p><p>“You should not encourage him to do that.” Prowl chided.</p><p>“Blue’s not gon’ be this little or light for too much longer Prowler.  There ain’t no harm in indulgin’ in some cuddles for now.”</p><p>“Yazz?” Bluestreak chirruped.</p><p>“Yeah, Baby Blue?” Jazz paused the petting to look down.</p><p>“Svvim?” He pointed towards the water hopefully.</p><p>“What’s ‘Ri say?”</p><p>{‘Ri! Can Yazz come swim with us?}</p><p>{What does Jazz say?} Prowl asked lazily from where he was sunning himself.</p><p>“‘Ri wants what you say.”</p><p>“I’d love ta bitty.” Jazz smiled at him.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>{Yazz says yes!} Blue squealed happily.</p><p>{So I heard.} Prowl eyed Jazz carefully. {Just a short one though. We don’t feel the cold like Jazz does.}</p><p>“‘Ri says only short svvim.” Blue pouted.</p><p>“Tha’s okay. We don’ have much time left today anyway.” Jazz replied. “Now why don’ ya hop off so I can get ready?”</p><p>Blue looked at her curiously. Jazz laughed.</p><p>“I can’t breathe underwater like you and ya ‘Ri. I gotta wear special stuff or come up to tha surface every few minutes.”</p><p>“Oh. Why?” Bluestreak was mentally lining a dozen more questions.</p><p>“Jus tha way humans are made.”</p><p>{Bluestreak, Let Jazz get ready. Why don’t you meet us in the water?} Prowl said, recognising the look that crossed his offspring’s face. The one that said ‘I have a million questions to ask in five seconds’.</p><p>{Yay!} Bluestreak shot towards the water with all the speed of a hyperactive Mer belly hopping across slip-proof coated concrete.</p><p>“Jazz, when we go in, please stay close to me. Bluestreak is excited...”</p><p>“And ya don’ want anything to happen? I get ya Prowler. I was thinkin’ only snorkel today. Less stuff to get snagged on if he does get too excitable.”</p><p>“That would be acceptable.”</p><p>Jazz had wanted to go swimming with Prowl a long time before this, but his asocial behaviour – a result of pregnancy and paranoia- had made it too unsafe and the arrival of his pup had only delayed it further. Blue asking had made a dream come true. Diving in the Arctic tank was a different kettle of Mer to the tropical tanks. And a lot more equipment. Jazz walked to a locker hidden behind a panel of wall painted to look like the local landscape to retrieve the hood, snorkel, gloves and flippers she would need to stay dry in the chilled water. While the WRC couldn’t keep the water as quite cold as it would have been in nature, it was too cold to comfortably swim for more than a few minutes without a dry suit. Preferably, Jazz would have liked to have used the proper dry suit scuba set up but a hyper active pup might snag on tubes. And while she trusted Prowl to not let her drown, WHS regs were established for a reason. This was why she also grabbed the radio and called Ratchet to let him know and ask for someone to be her spotter in the viewing area.</p><p>“YAZZ!”</p><p>“I’ma comin’, Baby Blue!” Jazz called back pulling the hood over her head and tucking it into the suit collar. The snorkel mask went on and to save herself the awkward ‘flipper waddle’ she tucked them under her arm until she got to the water’s edge to put them on over her dry suit booties. Pulling the mask down and securing it she was good to go. The radio squawked confirmation that her spotter was in place. She set it out of the way and slid into the water.</p><p>The water was a cold as expected. Water managed to sneak into the seams around edge of the snorkel mask. But Jazz would not have traded seeing, swimming, with both Mer in their natural environment for anything. A little bone sapping cold was a small price to pay. Blue zipped around like a small torpedo showing Jazz all his favourite things. Prowl tempered Blue’s attempts to get Jazz to dive deeper with gentle chides. He also became an impromptu underwater jet ski for both of them. But before long the cold began to cut through. She tapped Prowl’s arm to get his attention and used her right hand, in the ‘thumbs up’ position to make two short jabs towards the surface. Prowl didn’t understand at first but when she repeated the gesture to her spotter, he suddenly became aware of Jazz’ shivering. It was time for Jazz to get out of the cold water.</p><p>Bluestreak protested strongly and at length as only the young could when their fun was cut short. The complaining continued well after Jazz had emerged from the pool, stripped off the diving accessories and snagged the thermal blanket to wrap herself to keep her warm during the shuffle to the locker room next door to change. Blue could even be heard through the walls of the locker room. The complaining only ceased when Jazz returned to the room and allowed the unhappy pup to re-claim her lap where he then demanded cuddles. Leaving work had become a little harder with an adorable little face throwing adorable tantrums that his distressed Carri tried so hard to stop. It was easy to see human behaviour in the tantrums and to try and help Prowl out but Mer weren’t human and Jazz had to squash the impulse and sit there and let Prowl do the parenting.</p><p>“It’s time Blue. I havfta go home now.” Jazz said to the sulking puddle on her lap. The long drawn out whistle Bluestreak issued required no translation. “I know, I know. But I gotta. ‘Ri’s cuddles will havfta do until tomorrow. Time ta scoot now.”</p><p>Getting him off her lap proved to be an undignified affair and Prowl had to hold Bluestreak up by the middle while Jazz unhooked his claws from her clothes. He was quickly bundled up in his Carri’s arms and treated with a kiss attack to settle his sobbing. He curled into a ball against Prowl’s chest in what was becoming a familiar routine at the end of Jazz’ working day.</p><p>{Jazz will be back in the morning, my little one.} Prowl crooned. he looked up. “It’s best you go now, quickly”</p><p>“Alrigh’. See you tomorrow Prowler.”</p><p> </p><p>                                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>Jazz did her best to ignore the sad cry as she closed the door. It was going to be hard if Bluestreak got too attached. The ultimate goal was to get Prowl well enough to return to the wild, currently a long shot at best with his injuries, but failing that getting him and his pup acclimatized well enough to join Ultra Magnus’s local pod. Providing Prowl was willing. There were so many ‘ifs’, ‘ands’ and ‘buts’ running through her head she almost over shot past her office. She tossed the bag of wet swimwear and Prowl’s letter on a plastic chair beside her filing cabinet so she’d remember to take it home to wash it. She tried to do her paper work through her busy thoughts but her heart wasn’t in it.</p><p>“You’re here late. Shouldn’t you be home already? I’m the one with the monopoly on overtime.”</p><p>Jazz jerked out of her reverie and looked up at Ratchet, coffee mug in hand, standing in the doorway. She checked her computer clock. 7pm. Her shift ended two hours ago.</p><p>“Uh yeah, dang, I guess I go’ a little los’ in the paperwork.” She must have been looking off because the next thing she knew that coffee cup was on the other side of her desk, the bag tossed onto the floor and her boss swinging his leg over the plastic chair to sit down across from her.</p><p>“You hate paperwork more than I do. What’s wrong? Out with it.”</p><p>Jazz wiped her hand over her face and sighed loudly.</p><p>“I think I’m getting’ attached.” She said.</p><p>“To Bluestreak?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Jazz, we’re working with beings who resemble ourselves so closely intellectually, emotionally and culturally it’s hard not to get attached to them.” Ratchet sipped his coffee. “It’s been the better part of two decades since I finished raising a fish kid and Rodimus is still glued to me like a bad barnacle I can’t scrape off.”</p><p>“Roddy only had you as a ‘rent, Ratch’, o’ course he’s still attached. Blue has Prowl. I’m worried tha’ if he gets too attached, if <em>I</em> get too attached, it’s going to hamper ‘is chances to be released.”</p><p>“That’s a likely chance anyway, Jazz. Not all releases end favourably for the Mer and from what I know about Orca Mer, their pods are matriarchal. His instinct will be to stay with Prowl for as long as he’s unmated and maybe even after. We all know the chances that Prowl will ever make it beyond Magnus’ pod are bad.”</p><p>“Wha’ if he starts calling me Dad? Uh, Sire?” She stumbled over the terminology causing Ratchet to chuckle.</p><p>“Take in stride and start making dad jokes. There are worse things in the world than to be called ‘dad’ by someone who loves you. And I can tell that Bluestreak <em>adores</em> you by the tantrums he throws when you leave.”</p><p>“I’m being serious Ratch’!”</p><p>“So am I. But if you’re really worried about it, go drop Anode a line and chat with her.” He took another swig of his coffee and stood. “In the long run, if Prowl’s okay with whatever happens, it’ll be okay. I think I’ve said this before, but it’s worth saying again. Prowl likes you Jazz. If there’s something he doesn’t like, he’s going to let you know. Now get out of here, go get something greasy for dinner and get some sleep. No point in dwelling on what could happen.”</p><p>“Who are ya’ and where is mah hard ass boss?”</p><p>“Begone Jazz, I have other things to do.” Ratchet walked out the door, free hand digging into a pocket.</p><p>“There he is! Alright I’ma goin’” She piled the partially finished paperwork and was in the process of shutting down her computer when Ratchet’s voice bellowed from up the hallway.</p><p>“RODIMUS YOU BRAT! GIVE ME MY PHONE!”</p><p>Jazz snickered as she shouldered her bag. The Lionfish menace had struck again. No doubt to browse eBay for another hideously ugly jumper to add to Ratchet’s wardrobe. She flicked the lights off and locked her office door.</p><p>The drive home gave her some time to think. Find some time to talk ethics with Anode. And while she ate dinner distractedly the idea of introducing Blue to the WRC pod earlier than she’d planned hit her. Not a full integration, that was the eventual goal, if only to free up another recovery area for other polar Mer, but a series of supervised visits with some of the other wild-born Mer. The hope was it would curb tantrums and lessen any negative repercussions that bonding to a human would have. It was something she’d have to run by Ratchet, Anode and Prowl. She snagged her phone and opened the note taking app to begin makings plans.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Introducing Anode, the Authority on Mer Reproduction and Merpup Care! Anode is a Trans woman of South Indian descent happily married to Lug, a Trans Woman of Welsh descent. </p><p>The title is a reference to a plush toy I had in the 90's which has made a recent return to toy story shelves (My puppy Surprise had 4 puppies one of which I still have).</p><p>Let me know if you see any spelling mistakes!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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